Because signs weren’t already pointing to the nursing the home, now my boyfriend has landed in physical therapy and we’re both going on a date to get MRI’s. Someone’s going to have to come take care of our dog because we’re getting too elderly to manage. I’m going to have to have a hip-eotomy and he’s going to have to have a back-eotomy. And they lived happily ever after…in matching hospital beds. Ayi yi!
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